


Frontline

by Arisprite



Series: By Grace, We Are Saved [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anger, Angst, Cas is Immature, Gen, Lack of Communication, M/M, and Unfair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arisprite/pseuds/Arisprite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean caught his gaze, as he’d <i>always</i> done, and Castiel couldn’t breath in again, because Dean looked so <i>shocked</i>, almost horrified. He stepped backwards, recoiling as Castiel moved. His face was white, and Castiel was sure his was too, because suddenly, he knew, he <i>knew</i> this would not end well.</p><p>Cas POV to archi's "Go"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frontline

Castiel’s resolve lasted up until they were in sight of the bunker. The twenty minute drive from the motel to Dean’s home didn’t last nearly long enough, and by the time Charlie pulled to a stop on the gravel road, Castiel’s stomach was knotting in anxiety.  
Turning the car off, Charlie turned to him, biting her lip. 

“So, we’re here.” She said, glancing up at the bunker. They were a few yards away from the entrance, and all was still outside. “Sam knows we’re coming. Do you want me to text him, say to come out, or just go up and knock, or …?” She trailed off watching him. Castiel hadn’t moved. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. 

Castiel couldn’t speak, and so simply shook his head. His chest was a tangle of emotions, feeling almost as bad as that night he’d broken down by the window. It was too much for him to categorize it with human words in a single language. She frowned, glancing up again, like she was afraid that Dean would just appear at any moment. He supposed he could. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? Cause we could go back, try again later?”

Castiel took a breath. It would be so easy to say yes, he wasn’t ready, he’d try again...but he was afraid he wouldn’t. If he left now, he’d _leave_ and never return, just so he wouldn’t have to feel this nervousness again. This was happening now. 

“No.” Castiel said, and unbuckled his seat. It felt like a big step. 

Then, the clang of a door sounded, and two figures emerged from the underground bunker. First was Sam, tall and moving easily. Strong and healthy again. Castiel spared a burst of happiness from his roiling chest for that. And behind him was Dean. Dean, who had no idea what he was leaving his home to find, who would never expect this surprise. He looked fine, also moving normally. A little pale maybe, but perhaps he was just looking for evidence of what the other two had told him, that Dean wanted him back. 

Castiel swallowed. 

Charlie got out of the car first, and Castiel saw Dean’s face brighten in greeting. For a second, he couldn't move, but then his fingers found the door handle and pushed the passenger side open as well. Charlie was there, ushering him on, murmuring gently to him, but he couldn’t hear her. He slowly stood. 

He could only look at the ground. Around him, all noise stopped, and he knew Dean had seen and recognized him. Bracing himself, he took a breath. Then he turned and lifted his head.

Dean caught his gaze, as he’d _always_ done, and Castiel couldn’t breath in again, because Dean looked so _shocked_ , almost horrified. He stepped backwards, recoiling as Castiel moved. His face was white, and Castiel was sure his was too, because suddenly, he knew, he _knew_ this would not end well. 

Sam stepped forward, trying to console, to lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder to ground and comfort him, as usually helped Dean so much. But Dean, gasped, wheeled around. His fist connected with Sam’s nose, tearing a ragged gasp from Castiel’s throat. _No, it wasn’t Sam’s fault, no, Dean don’t._

“No!” Dean’s voice was rasping, emotions breaking it’s roughness. Castiel took a step forward, but Dean only broke away, running into the line of trees by the road, into the forest. He quickly disappeared, and took all of Castiel’s hopes with him. 

“Dean!” Sam called out, garbled by the blood dripping from his nose, but Dean didn’t come back. 

Castiel stood frozen, barely breathing. Not moving an inch. 

“Damn it!” Sam startled him in his shout, kicking out at a pile of undergrowth. Charlie was wide eyed, jumping too at Sam’s sudden movement. She kept looking at Castiel, and he felt his teeth grind together, his head bowing under the weight of her pity. 

He started walking. 

“Castiel?” Charlie asked, softly, like she was afraid of breaking him. “Where are you going?”

“After him.” He said, and strode off into the trees. He heard Charlie make an aborted noise of protest, but he didn’t turn back, and soon both she and Sam’s voices fell away. 

The woods were quiet, but it was obvious that it had been frequented lately. There was a small path trodden through the undergrowth and Castiel started down it carefully. He was wary of what he’d find. That Dean was upset was an understatement, but he hoped if he could just explain...

He sighed, and kept walking. 

Slight noises filtered through the trees after a time, muffled sounds a man in distress, anguished choking, sobbing...noises he recognized from his own throat but had never heard from Dean. It was far away, and scattered, but still twisted his heart. 

“Dean...” Castiel breathed, stepping faster. The noises led him in the vague direction, but it was still over ten minutes later that he finally saw the hunched shape of Dean’s back, leaning heavily against a tree. His eyes were hidden in the crook of his arm, and his shoulders were tense and trembling. He was quiet now.

Castiel stepped closer, purposely crackling twigs with his tennis shoes.

“Dean?” He said, wanting nothing more than Dean to turn, to see his face again, to explain himself and get this over with. Instead, Dean’s back seized up, and he dug his face deeper into his elbow. A moment passed. 

“Dean...” He knew his voice was weak, pleading, begging for a glance. But Dean didn’t respond, ignoring his words, his presence, his very existence. Castiel knew then that Dean wouldn’t answer, wouldn’t even turn to look at him.

Slowly, with minute tremors running along his body, Castiel turned away from Dean, left him there, and walked off. 

Not towards the road again, he could just imagine Sam and Charlie’s looks, pricking his skin and setting his teeth on edge with their saccharine pity. He strode through the trees, not sticking the any set path anymore, he didn’t want to walk where Dean had walked. His breathing became more and more erratic, gusting out of him.

What was he supposed to do now? He’d come, he’d revealed the truth, and Dean refused to even _look_ at him. He’d _sacrificed_ everything for that man, and he wasn’t even granted an acknowledgement!

Castiel ground his teeth, nearly growling as he walked, then jogged, and then sprinted, crashing through the bushes, and dodging trees at the last minute, almost hoping he’d hit one, get struck down by an errant branch, or tripped by a root, but his feet never faltered. Not until he ducked around one more tree and came to a clearing. 

It was in ruins. The ground was covered in splinters, the hacked up insides of the surrounding trees, shining white against the bark and dirt. Fragments of wood and branches hung in shards from the sides of the clearing, and stuck in the ground like solemn grave markers. Some of the shorter, smaller, weaker trees were in actual pieces, laying along the ground like dead soldiers. It was a battlefield, a war ground, and the ghosts of the dead shimmered above this place like a shroud. 

Looking around at the devastation, Castiel suddenly knew, _knew_ that Dean had done this. Dean had swung an axe into tree after tree, the wood flying at each impact, the trees taking each mortal wound with no comment. 

They’d told him Dean was mourning. Here was the evidence. 

“Oh, Dean...” Castiel breathed, still looking around. “What did I do to you?”

He was silent and shattered feeling by the time he emerged from the forest. Sam and Charlie were still there, waiting. To his sadness, Charlie was curled under Sam’s arm, and wiping away a stream of tears. He went to her, and she detached herself from Sam and folder herself into his arms without hesitation. It was the first time she’d hugged him, but his arms came up to encircled her automatically. 

“I’m sorry,” Charlie whispered. Castiel could not respond, and after a moment, she nodded against his chest and pulled away. “We should go.”

Sam glanced back at the bunker, blood still smeared under his nose. Castiel guessed Dean had come back while he’d been out there, and was now inside. He hunched his shoulders and turned his back on the place, nodding slightly. 

Charlie led him gently back to the car, still acting like he could break, but it didn’t make him mad this time. After seeing the devastation in the woods, he just felt tired. Done. 

“We’ll try again, Castiel. “ Charlie said, as they drove off. Her voice was still rough with crying. “Dean just needs some time. We’ll come back and try again.”

Castiel said nothing to that. He couldn’t. But at the tremor in her voice, he turned his head. 

“Are you alright? Did Dean say something?”  
Charlie glanced over, startled, and then made an effort to wipe her face. “I’m okay, Castiel.”

Castiel squinted at her. “ _Did_ he say anything to you?” He was well acquainted with the furor of Dean’s anger, and he suddenly felt rage of that same intensity at anyone who would direct such a thing to Charlie.

Charlie was shaking her head. “No, honestly. He barely said anything. Just went inside.”

Castiel moved his eyes back to the road, watching as the trees gave way to buildings as the town approached. 

“It’ll be okay, Cas. We’ll try again.”

So she’d said before, but honestly, Castiel wanted nothing more than open air a million miles again, and to never hear the name Dean Winchester again.


End file.
